


Bellflowers and Dandelions

by Temperental



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Beta Wanted, F/M, First Kiss, Flowers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Inspired By Undertale, Language of Flowers, Misgendering, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Panic Attacks, Pre-Undertale, Shipping, Soft Chara, Tags May Change, Temporary Amnesia, These are really bad, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, probably will stay second pov tho, undertale doesn't happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-04 04:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10268591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temperental/pseuds/Temperental
Summary: Legends say an angel who had seen above would save them all.In reality, the angel was already there, with the monsters.One day, a demon fell into the underground, and befriended the angel.They say they were the best of friends.They say that the angel was coerced by the demon to do what they wanted.But to put it simply,nothing is ever black and white.And so, blossoms bloom in the dark.





	1. In Incipiens Linea

Bellflowers: Unwavering love.  
Dandelions: Overcoming hardships.

 

Feeling the cool beads of sweat trickle down their back, their eyes were shrouded by the ever-so irritable and unconventional thicket of blossoming violet bellflowers, misguiding their way of sight. it was to make a point, everlasting love, yet irrational and stupid, anyone who spoke the tongue of blossoms would see it as clear as day.  
It was not to be, but they hoped it differed from their thoughts.  
As they trudged through the hallways, portraits of figures that seemed way too regal for their taste hung steadily on the walls, but it wasn't like they could complain. It was their adoptive home, after all.  
Skewering in, the ungodly light was near blinding, as they turned to look at the shadowed alcove in the corner.  
Piercing through from their memories, laughter found its way to their lips, quickly turning into sorrowful sobs, mixed in with the childish laughter.

“Once upon a time, there was a family. They were blissfully happy, with a son, who was the ‘light of the country’. The, ‘angel who saved them all from famine, war, and brought peace to the kingdom with his birth.’”  
The words they spoke seemed awfully rehearsed, recited, memorized.  
“The boy was the prince, and people expected so much from him. To be a beautiful leader who would lead them all to their freedom.”  
Their voice lilted, cracking, as if they knew something was next, something that would corrupt the story to its roots, poison its origins.  
“And surely enough, he was exactly that. So it was no surprise when there came a nobody, a lost soul who fell into their domain, he rushed to their aid as quickly as possible.”  
They proceeded to walk forwards, heading aimlessly forward as if there was no point in their existence anymore, because there really wasn’t.  
And so the story continued.  
“They were human, or so believe. They were so much different than the prince, though he helped them anyways, a fragile, so easily breakable one.”  
Looking to the ceiling, they hoped to find something, anything, that would ease their mind off any of this, complete blasphemy. Their heart ached, just watching the murals on the walls, so intricately painted.  
Golden pollen was scattered across the floor, but they didn’t seem to notice. They kept walking, mindlessly, worthlessly. Stupid to think anyone would love them, and him? They winced at the thought.  
Scoffing, they paused at the doorway, looking around, before their eyes caught on a tuft of silvery white fur, panicking and dashing out.  
What they didn’t notice, was the boy in the green and yellow sweater look back at them, walk towards the doorway, and pick up the mauve blossom on the floor.

Their heart racing, they dashed across hallways, sprinting at full speed, to slam open their bedroom door, red and gold, one of the more majestic of the rooms in the palace.  
Sliding down the door, they noticed the flower was missing, but waving the fact away dismissively.  
Their eyes darted across the room, before settling on a mirror. They sighed, watching their own useless reflection.  
Hair hanging below their shoulders, their skin seemed pallor in contrast to their blindingly crimson eyes.  
A demon.  
They weren’t even a human. A disgrace to their family.  
Huddling close in the corner of the room, the sound of the slight hesitant knocking on the door was nearly inaudible.  
“Chara…? Are you okay?”  
It was him.  
Their sunshine.  
It seemed that he made the room brighter just by being in it.  
Fool.  
They stayed blearily silent, vision fuzzy at the edges by just trying to keep their eyes open at all in the room embellished with simple golden designs.  
They opened the door, smiling gently at the face waiting behind the door.  
“They didn’t think the human would be so close to the boy, a demon and an angel.”  
A long silence engulfed the corridors, but it was an oddly pleasant, calming one.  
“But somehow, I guess..”

“They became best friends.”

 

They looked up, at the boy. His voice was soothing, a slight lilt to it all.  
Heart thumping, Chara looked to the side, hands drooping at the sides of her sweater.  
Green and yellow, green and yellow.  
Best friends, with one forcing the other to do things that the other, the angel did not want to do, when in reality, it couldn't be more far from the truth. It was an equal relationship between them both, aside from their constant panic attacks, which apparently weren't “much a hassle” for him.  
He was too sweet for his ow good, and that could get him killed.. And that made their stomach twist at just at the though of him being hurt…  
They wouldn’t know what to do, they’d…. They’d…..  
Vision flecked with red and black spots, quiet anger built up in their chest, nearly enough to even go insane, but his paw was enough to mute those feelings, at least for the while.  
Burying their head into his sweater, they bit back the anger they felt before, and focused on him, with his caring aura and calming attitude.  
Their laughter faltered, as they tried to look as nonchalant as possible, though tensely trying to smile. It was unnatural for them, but they tried.  
Asriel laughed lightly, and grinned. There were no words able to even begin to describe his smile right then and there, but there wasn’t any need for such. The truth was always between them, anyways.  
Looking back at him, Chara sometimes wondered why they were with him, as their friend at all.  
Polar opposites, though honestly, wasn’t there a saying about how opposites attract? They couldn’t remember, though it didn’t really matter.  
Turning away from this somewhat embrace, Chara hesitated, before sitting on the floor and picking up some knitting needles that was laid strewn on the floor, and continued to finish a sweater that seemed to say “Mr Dad -”.  
The last words seemed to be cut off, and around the room laid multiple of the same sweater, although some more deformed than others.  
“Look, Chara! I think this might be the one!”  
Rolling their eyes, though filled with a glimmer of hope, their voice breathing out.  
“I doubt it. But maybe, Az, you’ll be right.”  
“Maybe, just maybe.”  
The two figures huddled on the carpet didn’t see the violet lilac start to bloom in the distance.  
The first hint of adoration.  
Some would call that emotion,  
Love.


	2. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i might continue this.. but here's an edited version of what i had before i forgot about this.

Their eyes open, attention drawing to the curtains pulled over the windows, which are doing a great job at not letting a single ray of artificial lighting escape into the room, making the night indistinguishable from the day.

Bloody brilliant. 

Wincing as they slink off to the ground, they feel the cool wooden flooring beneath the balls of their feet, somewhat refreshing.

Calming, yet soothing, though they'd rather not admit that lying in bed, fur nuzzling their back wasn't soothing at all either.

The blanket falls right back into place, as they approach and open the door as quietly and quickly as they can, before exiting their room without a sound.

What a relief. 

Terrified to the very pit of their soul on how they would have answered him if he had caught them at this time, this time. They walked faster, faster, until they approached a long mirror hanging on the wall.

Looking at their russet hair, slightly longer than their would have liked, but thankfully didn't hang in their eyes.

Skin way too pale, and splotches on their face from when-

 

Don't want to think about it.

The memories tempted them, urging them to pore over every single thing they've done wrong.

They grabbed onto the mental pillars of stability, hanging on by just a few fingers. The mental, moral pillars that kept them stable outside when they felt like shattering.

Before, growing up, they hadn’t been shown any kindness, and grew up learning to judge quickly.

Let's just say, it had something to do with their mother trying to make people avert their eyes from their shockingly pale skin, and a hell lot of makeup.

They were healing, and would probably be gone soon, but their mind still lingered at the point, forcing themselves to think of how they were driven so insane in that village. That little village which they once even could have called.. home.

Looking at their skinny limbs, which.. actually made up for most bullying, because they looked like a fragile target.

Which wasn't really far from the truth.

And then the worst of the worst,

Their eyes.

It's just that.

Crimson red.

At birth, they cried, and heard.. laughter.

Quiet laughter, soothing. It was.. somewhat nice.

Faint talking, on how they were going to be the pride and joy of the village.

That whole talk stopped after they opened their eyes.

Ruby red.

Actually,  it wasn't even that.

It was slightly matted brown at the rims, but that made everything even worse, 

Bloody murderer.

They were so confused, as a horrified face watched theirs, before it let out a single, soundless scream, and a whispered word.

Demon.

Demon child.

Why were they here at all? They should be dead by now.

They shouldn’t have lived. They don’t deserve any of this kindness.

Ungrateful twerp.

They should have died when they fell. They made an active decision to die. Why were they given a second chance, when there were so many other people who deserved that so much more that them?   
Why are they so annoying? 

Streaks ran down their face as their shuddered and laughed.

Laughed like no one was looking. Because no one ever was.

Their eyes widen at the sight of arms around their frail body, feel the warmth flooding in.

“...!”

“She.. means everything to me..”

The tune brought them back, and whirling around... it’s him. 

He put a peach blossom in their hair, softly, curling it into their chocolate locks.

“She tastes like apple juice and peach.”

He hummed as he smiled, and the wind blowing in tasted sweet.

“Come on Chara, please don’t cry!”

They tried to resist the urge to hug him, but it was too overwhelming.

They felt the tear stains burn into their flesh, sinking in and in.

They both stayed there.

Basking in the moment, they smelt his fur. It smelt like lemongrass and sleep.

And oddly soothing.

Silent, they walked out and headed to the stairs together, running down faster than their mind could have even started to process.

The smell of freshly cooked pie wafted around the house, as well as Asgore’s jolly laughter.

Everything sometimes felt too surreal to them, but they went with Azzy to the dining table anyway.

They’d be fine.

Eventually.

They’d repress it, and it’d burst out at a moment of insecurity.

They sighed and sat down, the oak chair shifting under them as they look, putting on their facade one more, and their smile.

Maybe they wouldn't have to fake it someday.

Maybe, one day, I'll actually be okay, they think.

Quietly, they eat, and they retreat to their room to calm themselves down.

They were fine yesterday. they'll be fine today.

Get it together, freak.

Memories whirled around them as they remember eyeing the blunted knives in the living room.

They remembered asking Toriel about it.

 

_ “My child? I didn't want you to hurt yourself. I've read many books about humans to help accommodate you to your… fears.” _

_ She paused slightly and sighed. _

_ “I recognized the scars on your arms, and I.. want to let you know you can tell me about anything, and if not me, Asriel, or Asgore. _

_ Or even someone else!” _

_ She smiled softly at them as she grasped with her hands at their scarred arms. _

_ “We’all be here for you, Chara.” _

_ “Chara!” _

_ “Stay determined!” _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Undertale fic, and my first AO3 fanfic. Leave a review and a kudo if you enjoyed!  
> I'm always looking for beta readers, and if you catch something I wrote wrong, please tell me. I am only human.


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